


You Gush, We Flush!

by Island_of_Reil



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Crack, Gen, Original Fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-06
Updated: 2013-10-06
Packaged: 2017-12-28 15:25:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/993513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Island_of_Reil/pseuds/Island_of_Reil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In an omegaverse world where geysers of semen and omega lubricant are the norm, the question is seldom asked: <b>Who cleans all that shit up?</b></p>
            </blockquote>





	You Gush, We Flush!

**Author's Note:**

> I have not had anyone beta this story, so all errors of spelling, grammar, continuity, whatever are mine. However, the idea for the story is all [the fault](http://island-of-reil.livejournal.com/4541.html) of [Savvierthanu](http://archiveofourown.org/users/savvierthanu).

The phone rang. Sunil, my partner, picked it up and leaned back in his chair. "Alpha-Omega Cleaning Service: You gush, we flush!" he said. "This is Sunil, how can I help you?"

He listened while some aggravated-sounding guy talked on the other end. They were usually aggravated when they called, which is why they called.

"Okay… can you give me an idea of how many quarts?" Pause. "Not quarts. Gallons. Okay." Sunil jammed the receiver between his ear and shoulder, leaned forward again, and began scratching notes on a Post-It. "Carpet? Hardwood? … Hardwood. Okay. Wallpaper, paint?… Wallpaper. Okay. And— … the drapes, too? Okay, got it. Can I have your name, phone number, and address, sir? … Okay. We're kind of busy right now, it being the full moon this weekend, but we'll get a crew out to you as soon as possible. Thanks."

He hung up and pressed a button on the dispatch console. "Domingo! Where are you?"

"Stuck in traffic downtown." Domingo's voice came through the console a little scratchy. "There was an accident at Fifth and Washington. We ain't goin' anywhere fast, Sunil."

"Ah, shit. Okay." Sunil disconnected and punched another button. "LaStella. How's the Riverside job goin'?" Silence. "LaStella?"

There was a click. "It's goin'." LaStella sounded tired and exasperated. "They're STILL leaking. We've been here an hour and a half with the SuperShopVac and the mops, and it's still just pouring out of 'em. We're gonna be here a while, Sunil."

"Okay, take your time." Sunil disconnected again, then looked at me. "And Deng's not gonna be back for hours, either. Towering Oaks is a long drive."

"You charged them extra for the gasoline, right?" I said.

Sunil looked faintly offended. "Of course I did, Eddie."

I waved a conciliatory hand in the air. "Okay, okay, just asking. So… where's this new one live?"

"The Argent District."

"Oh, great."

"Yeah, I know." Sunil buried his face in his hands for a moment, then looked up at me. "We might as well take this one, man."

I really didn't want to. It was getting toward the end of my day, the Argent District was a pain in the ass, and the traffic would suck. But business was business, and this contract would be pretty lucrative. If I didn't take it, another cleaner would.

"Yeah, forward the phone to your cell," I said. I reached under the desk, grabbed my hip waders, and tugged them on as Sunil did the same.

 

It took us about an hour to weave the truck through rush-hour traffic, then another fifteen minutes trying to find a place to park. Finally I gave up and stowed the truck in a no-parking zone several houses down from the client's. Fuck it, I'd just pay the ticket if I got one.

Like every other house in the Argent District this one was old and had a historical plaque on it. Gorgeous house, late Victorian, but it presented us with a problem that newer houses didn't.

Sunil and I stood on the well-kept porch. He had his clipboard with him. I had an old towel over my shoulder. I thumped the door knocker a few times. We heard footsteps on the other side of the door, approaching it. It opened and a younger teenage boy stood in the doorway.

"Uh, hi," he said.

"Hi, we're Alpha-Omega Cleaning Service," Sunil said. "Did you call us?" As if we couldn't already smell the thick, musky animal funk all the way from the front door.

The kid turned bright red. "No, but my dads did." He turned around and yelled, "Dad! Pop!"

"They're here?" a deep male voice yelled back from behind another door. "Send them back here."

We followed the kid into the house and toward the rear. The decor was typical, all natural woods and fabrics and painfully neutral colors except for a few "accent colors" here and there. There was a loose and sparse trail of men's clothing — a pair of pants, a shirt, etc. etc. — and a scrap of black lingerie leading from the front door through the living room and into the rear hallway. The funk got stronger the further back we walked.

The kid stopped at a closed door. Rivulets of fluids were running out from under it. This wasn't going to be good. The kid called out again, a little more quietly, "They're here, Dad." He was still bright red. Then he turned around and left without a word to us.

I called out, "Alpha-Omega Cleaning Service. May we come in, sir?"

"Please."

Sunil opened the door. A wave of fluids splashed against the shins of our hip waders. The funk hit us like the heat of a broiling-hot day as you step out of the A/C. Sunil calls it "the Wall o'Funk." We're used to it but if you're not it can knock you right off your feet.

Standing in the middle of the room were the alpha and the omega, one behind the other, with a sheet wrapped around the both of them. If they were still knotted together nearly two hours post-coitus, no wonder they'd sprayed the room down like a center-pivot irrigator. The sheet was thoroughly soaked and didn't leave much to the imagination when it came to the omega's courting tackle.

"Hello, gentlemen," I said. "I'm Eddie, and this is my partner Sunil. We're here to help. Sorry for the delay, bad time of day for traffic."

"That's no problem," the alpha said.

Sunil was already wading through the fluids and taking notes on his clipboard. I looked around. I'd already gathered from his end of the phone conversation with the alpha that it was pretty bad. I mean, all our jobs are bad, it's not like people are gonna spend the money if they can tackle the cleanup themselves. But there were fluids dripping from the curtains, fluids running down the old-fashioned flocked wallpaper and already wrinkling it, even a few drips from the ceiling. The king-sized mattress was like a sponge that had been in the sink too long.

"This is kind of unusual," I said, stating the obvious. "Even with the full moon on."

"Well, it's like this," the alpha said. "My omega here went on heat suppressants thirteen years ago, after we had our son Destiel there and his littermates. We kept Destiel and his sister Renesmee, but we had to adopt the rest of them out to good beta families, unfortunately, because we couldn't care for them all."

"Of course," I said sympathetically. When they're still flush with hormones, they tend to be free with the TMI. I'm not as good a schmoozer as Sunil is, which is why he handles all the sales and marketing, but I can still play bartender-therapist when I need to.

"So we've been functioning like gay beta males ever since," the alpha continued. "But then my silly little omega" — his voice took on an indulgent tone, and he wrapped his arms around the other man and squeezed tightly — "decided he wanted more babies all of a sudden. His 'biological clock' was ticking, he said. I told him, 'No, and that's that,' but he's a lot sassier when he's on heat suppressants than when he's off them, and he just kind of wore me down with begging until I agreed." The omega looked up at him and made a scowly-pouty face, but he didn't interrupt or argue.

"So anyway," the alpha continued, "he went off them three days ago, with my permission. I was on a business trip and I didn't get home until late this morning. He met me at the door wearing nothing but one of those little French maid outfits, you know? We ripped each other's clothes off before we even made it in here, I spent all day inseminating him, each of us must've come a dozen times, and… well, all this happened." He gestured with one hand to the room around him.

Sunil came back over toward me and showed me the notes and calculations on his clipboard. I nodded, and I quoted a price to the alpha. Both men flinched. "That's… well, I knew it wouldn't be cheap, but isn't that kind of high?" the alpha asked.

"Well," I explained, "the thing with the Argent District is that none of the buildings here are grandfathered."

"Grandfathered?" the alpha repeated. "Into what law?"

"The Watson-Winchester Statute," I said. "Since that took effect, all new construction has to have metal floors with drains in all bedrooms, and all carpeting and hardwood must be in removable layers on top of the drain floors. If a floor is insulated, the insulation must also be a removable layer, sealed against moisture. Existing housing for sale or rent has to be retrofitted along the same lines. But that kind of retrofit would ruin the historical value of a house like this."

"So, okay, the fee covers getting rid of all the…" the alpha began.

"Fluids," I said. "Yeah, we'll drain and mop up the fluids, restore the hardwood floor, restore any damaged furniture, repair the wallpaper, clean up the ceiling, check for and repair any damage to the walls or ceiling, and get rid of the odor."

"What about the drapes and the bed?"

"Oh, we don't handle laundry," Sunil said.

The alpha's eyebrows shot up. "Wait, that's not included?"

"No, sir." Sunil reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and took out a card. "There are a few different launderers in town who specialize in alpha-omega problems, but I highly recommend Huang's, downtown. They've got a pickup-and-delivery service too. As for the bed…" He shook his head. "You can have the bedcovers and pillows laundered, but the mattress itself is going to be a total loss, sir. Your homeowners' insurance might cover that, though, might even put you up in a hotel room until the bedroom's been cleaned. Do you have an alpha-omega rider on your policy?"

"I'll have to look into that," the alpha said curtly. Which meant no, but the guy understandably didn't want to look clueless and royally screwed in front of his omega. "When can you start?"

"Well, we can drain and mop the fluids for you right now, as that's considered urgent," Sunil said. "We've got a SuperShopVac in the truck. But we'll have to come back to take care of all the damages. We'll need special equipment in particular for restoring the hardwood. It'll probably take us a few workdays. You won't be able to use the bedroom in the meanwhile."

"We'll use the bed in the guest room," the alpha said.

"Good idea, sir," Sunil replied. "In the meantime… well, not that it's any of my business, it being his personal decision, but for the moment I would suggest that, for now, your omega go back on the heat suppressants."

"Oh, don't worry," the alpha said sternly. "He will." The omega looked rather woebegone, but as before he wasn't going to contradict his alpha, especially not in front of other people.

"You might also want to consider a medical consultation before you make any more decisions," Sunil continued. "It's not really my ballpark, so I can't make a recommendation, but there are some good omega-focused obstetricians affiliated with the university. Your general practitioner might be able to suggest one." The alpha nodded.

"I'll need a down payment of half before we start the job, and the other half you pay after we complete it," I said.

"Er," the alpha said. The hesitation produced a tic of discomfort across the omega's face. "My wallet is in my pants, which are…"

"… in the living room," Sunil said. "I'd go get them, but Eddie and I have only one set of bootwipes each in our pockets, and we want to be careful about tracking the fluids into the rest of the house."

"DESTIEL!" the alpha bellowed. The kid appeared again in the doorway. Ships out at sea could have used the bright-red glow on his face for nighttime navigation. "Destiel, go get my wallet, it's in my pants pocket on the living room floor," his dad said. Destiel obeyed post-haste.

"Nice boy you have there," I said.

"Thank you," the alpha and omega said together. It was the first time the omega had spoken since we'd gotten there.

Destiel returned with the wallet in his hand. He reached out and passed it to me, I passed it to Sunil, and Sunil passed it to the alpha. He took his credit card out and handed the wallet to the omega. "Here, hold that for me, honey." The omega obeyed. Destiel had disappeared as soon as the wallet was out of his hands again. I swiped the credit card with the hand-held unit; the alpha's credit was good, and I processed the down payment without a problem.

"All right, then," I said. "We're going out to the truck to get the SuperShopVac and the mops and buckets. We'll need you to vacate the bedroom, please. It might be a good opportunity to get a shower in. Just be careful about tracking fluids into clean areas." I took the old towel off my shoulder and handed it to him.

The alpha took it, nodding. "Will do. Thanks."

Sunil and I stepped outside the puddle of pungent fluids that had collected in the hallway outside the bedroom door. Each of us carefully wiped down our boots and dropped the wipes into the puddle before continuing into the living room and then out the front door.

"Whew," Sunil said. "City air smells good after being in there."

"Well, don't get used to it right now," I said, heading for the truck, him following me.

"Man," he said, and then he started laughing. "Can you believe it?" It was the same damn joke he made after every estimate, same damn joke he'd been making since we'd started working together. "I went to college for four years to become a glorified jizz mopper."

So I said my line. "Yeah, but you're a _well-paid, highly-sought-after_ glorified jizz mopper." I threw open the back of the truck. "Now help me get this goddamn vac out. We got some epic jizz to mop, dude."


End file.
